


Sorcerers and Superheroes

by eyesocketsandsuits (writingandchocolatemilk), SomeBratInAMask



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy, Young Avengers
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4441871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/eyesocketsandsuits, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeBratInAMask/pseuds/SomeBratInAMask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A world of magic and secrecy collides with the glamorous lifestyle of Marvel superheroes when a teen reality-warper summons the dynamic detective duo from his favorite book series, <i>Skulduggery Pleasant.</i> To get back to their respective dimensions, the Young Avengers team and the Skulduggery crew will have to overcome culture shock, personal ghosts, and a Norse god.</p><p> <br/><i>Hawkeye cocked her head curiously, swallowing her shock. "Interesting costumes. Did you remember to say 'trick-or-treat' before you beat that man over there to a pulp?" she inquired. "It counts as a mugging if you don't say 'trick-or-treat.'"</i></p><p>  <i>Valkyrie frowned at the arrow. Wow, they sucked at keeping a low profile.</i></p><p>Alternatively titled: Billy Kaplan Must Die</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorcerers and Superheroes

**Author's Note:**

> My co-writer, eyesocketsandsuits, and I have collaborated to bring the fandom fusion no one asked for, but certainly everyone should want now that it exists (surely): _Skulduggery Avengers!_ Or maybe Young Pleasant? (We're working it out.)
> 
> The way it is written should be informative to any reader who is only familiar with one of the fandoms; however, we provided a brief description of each world in the end notes if the need is felt.
> 
> The Young Avengers cast is written by me, while eyesocketsandsuits handles the SP squad. We originally did this roleplay style, then went back and edited for grammar, continuity, and to give Kate pants; she didn't have any and went about most of the story without them.

“Well, that went well,” Valkyrie muttered, hauling the man back into the alley. “Keep a low profile. We’re doing excellent, aren’t we?”

The man — well, boy really — wasn’t as heavy as she would have expected. She dropped him, popped her head around the corner to make sure no one had seen, and retreated.

“We’ve only knocked out one person,” Skulduggery countered, calling yet another contact. “I say we’re doing a decent job of it. Damn.”

“Nothing? No one?”

Skulduggery shut his phone. “We have service, but every number is unavailable.”

Valkyrie nodded. “Okay. All right. Okay. Someone could be cutting us off from all support. But it doesn’t make sense, we just… Why cut off our support and then not attack us? And then drop us in a strange city?”

“And steal the Bentley,” Skulduggery added grumpily. “We aren’t in Ireland. The magic feels… off, somehow.”

“He sounded American.”

“We’ll wait for him to wake up, ask some questions. Until then, keep a low profile.”

Valkyrie snorted. “You said that last time.”

This city was strange, though. Valkyrie could feel it in the air. It was like her magic was being channeled through a different filter. It was there, the same magic at her fingertips, but when summoned, it reacted oddly with the environment.

* * *

 

Billy sat in the center of his bedroom, surrounded by lit candles dotting the carpet. An open book laid before him as he concentrated, legs crossed and eyes closed. A blue-tinged breeze wove between the flames and ruffled his hair. The candles abruptly extinguished. He peeked.

Nothing.

He was the worst witch ever. He flipped through the pages idly, letting the disappointment settle in his stomach.

Billy lifted his head when the door cracked, Teddy peering through. He flicked on the light switch and frowned. "What's all this?"

Billy grimaced. “A failed experiment.”

Teddy mindfully closed the door and leaned against it. “Might this experiment be a seance?”

Billy gathered the candles in his arms. “No, I did that already. Hypothesized, was proven incredibly wrong, and had several peer reviews. The consensus was _‘terrible fucking idea,’_ by the way.” Billy dumped the candles into a dresser drawer, jamming it shut. The drawer poked out slightly and Billy ignored it, offering Teddy a tentative smile instead. “No accidental interdimensional monsters this time, promise.”

Billy strode forward, wrapping his arms around Teddy’s waist. Teddy’s arms instinctively hugged back, though his gaze didn’t soften. “What’s with the book?” he asked, motioning his chin toward the novel abandoned on the floor.

 _“Skulduggery Pleasant._ You still need to read it, you know.”

Teddy rolled his head back, groaning. “I told you, I’m getting to it.”

Billy’s hands slid under Teddy’s shirt, rubbing the skin beneath and humming. Teddy shifted to hold Billy’s wrists, stilling them. He was staring at the book over Billy’s shoulder. “So,” he began carefully, “do you use all your favorite books in casting rituals, or just this series?”

Billy bit his lip. “It was actually more of a summoning ritual.”

Teddy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I thought you said no interdimensional monsters. You _promised_ no interdimensional monsters.”

“I promised no _accidental_ interdimensional monsters. These ones, I would be completely prepared for!” 

“I am going to bed,” Teddy said firmly. “When I wake up, there better not be a skeleton downstairs making us breakfast or giving us relationship advice.” Teddy turned and left the room.

“I said it was a _failed_ experiment!” Billy called out. Teddy didn’t answer.

 

* * *

 

Skulduggery slapped around the man, Valkyrie standing behind. Skulduggery’s blows become more violent, and she frowned.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to insult your suit,” Valkyrie mumbled.

Skulduggery shrugged. The man’s eyes fluttered opened. His gaze fell on Valkyrie, and he almost smiled for a moment until Skulduggery’s head loomed in his vision. Horror crossed the man’s face and he flinched, then moaned.

“You’re mutants, aren’t you?” the man asked, eyes flicking between them. “You ain’t right.”

Skulduggery tilted his head. “I’m a skeleton, not a monster.”

The man looked half mortified and half scornful. He glanced at Valkyrie. “And what’re you? Something equally as awful? I knew somethin’ was wrong with — " 

Valkyrie stepped forward and the man recoiled back. Another moan escaped his lips, and his hand went up to his head. Skulduggery stood, checked his gun, and then looked down at this small, angry, bruised man.

“Do you have anything useful to tell us? Or can my partner here kick you? She has very nice legs, and she likes to kick people with them.” He gestured. “Look at them.”

Valkyrie rolled her eyes. “All right. Guessing from the accent, we’re in New York.”

“Are you one of them?” the man asked.

Skulduggery was checking his gun, but Valkyrie knew his gaze rested on the man. “Who?”

“A superhero.”

Valkyrie blinked, and then she laughed. Skulduggery looked from her to the man. “No.”

“I saw you use fire. Like those… _people_ down on Fifth.”    

Skulduggery looked at her. “Did you see how effortlessly I extracted that information? Truly, I am a specimen worth praise. Fifth Avenue.” Then, he looked back at the man. “Did you see us?”

The man looked terrified. “What?”

“Did you see us?”

He licked his lips. “No.”

“Good. Come along, Valkyrie.”

"Freeze," Hawkeye directed, bow and arrow poised. She took in the bleached head of a skull and the baggy fall of black sleeves giving way to meatless fingers of bone. She let out a small gasp. Recovering, she repointed her arrow at the skeleton's companion. She took her chances on the forehead of a woman who, at the very least, appeared of flesh and bone.

The muggers stilled their strides, glancing between one another and Hawkeye. Hawkeye cocked her head curiously, swallowing her shock. "Interesting costumes. Did you remember to say 'trick-or-treat' before you beat that man over there to a pulp?" she inquired. "It counts as a mugging if you don't say 'trick-or-treat.'"

Valkyrie frowned at the arrow. Wow, they sucked at keeping a low profile.

She glanced at Skulduggery, but he was too busy taking in the costume of this woman. It was tight. It was purple. She thought he might have been horrified. He fingered the material of his suit, and looked at Valkyrie, reassuring himself someone knew how to dress sensibly.

Valkyrie cleared her throat and gave a little wave. “Uh, hello. It sort of does look like we’re muggers. I mean, we did beat up that nice man over there. But we didn’t mean to.”

“He insulted my suit,” Skulduggery explained.

“Well, first he wolf-whistled, and then he insulted my partner’s suit. He was rude. And we didn’t take any money off of him.” Valkyrie turned up her pockets.

A grin stretched across Hawkeye's face. "Nice," she murmured, impressed. She liked women who defended themselves. The world needed them.

Skulduggery nodded. “Also, if you shoot that arrow, I’m going to hit you, too.”

“Be nice,” Valkyrie whispered.

“You won’t be saying that if she shoots you with the arrow,” he whispered back.

Valkyrie attempted a smile. "Would you mind telling us about... here? We're, uh, not from here."

Skulduggery tilted his head. "Are you a sorcerer?"

“A what?” asked Hawkeye.

Valkyrie gave Skulduggery a look. “A little blunt, don’t you think?”

“People here know about sorcerers.” He shrugged, then looked back at the woman. “A sorcerer. Mage, witch, warlock. I assume with that bow, you’d be some sort of Adept.”

Hawkeye snorted. "Quite adept," she boasted, not lowering her bow. "And I'm no sorcerer. I'm guessing you guys aren't from here, which explains why you've mixed me up with my colleague." Hawkeye felt proud, saying "colleague." It made her feel professional.

Valkyrie was having nasty flashbacks. She reached up and touched her arm, but there wasn’t an ache there. Not this time. But it was the same sort of change — people here, similar, but using different terms.

“Another shunter?” she said lowly.

“Something along those lines.” Skulduggery raised his voice. “Which colleagues would those be? Do they work for the Sanctuary?”

Hawkeye's face screwed up. "'The Sanctuary'? Excuse me, but — _where_ are you from?"  Hawkeye felt the hairs on her nape rise as a prickling sensation danced anxiously across her shoulders. Her grip on her bow, which had slackened, suddenly tightened as she honed in on the woman. "Do you work for someone?" she said slowly.

Skulduggery tilted his head, obviously interested. Valkyrie just hoped that interest wouldn’t get her shot. She flexed her fingers, ready to deflect the arrow if it decided to fly towards her. Skulduggery took a step towards Valkyrie.

Valkyrie tried another smile. “We’re from Ireland. Just visiting. Unexpectedly visiting. We don’t mean anyone any harm. Right, Skulduggery?”

It took a second for him to answer. “Right.”

“We’re looking for the people in charge of… you guys.” Valkyrie waved her hand at the fancy bow. “We call them Sanctuaries where we’re from. They’re the good guys. Our secret police.”

Hawkeye watched them critically. "Ireland sounds like nice place if you think we're law enforcement. Or secret, for that matter," she added.

Valkyrie’s smile tightened. “Alright, not secret police, then. Public police. People who put the bad guys away. Where we’re from, our powers aren’t known by mortals. Obviously…” Valkyrie looked around the quiet, dark street. “It’s different here.”

Skulduggery’s hand moved casually to where Valkyrie knew he kept his revolver. He was jumpy.

Valkyrie continued. “My name is Valkyrie Cain, and this is my partner, Skulduggery Pleasant. We’re detectives for the Irish Sanctuary.”

Hawkeye's gaze followed Skulduggery's hands. She couldn't make out what he was resting them on, but she recognized the motion. "Hawkeye, pleasure," she replied. "Here, we're called Avengers. Or, well, Young Avengers, in my very specific case. Also." She leveled her eyes with Skulduggery's vacant sockets, pointing the tip of her arrow at his wrist. "We never shoot first. So, your move, detectives."

Skulduggery didn’t move his hands, but Valkyrie saw the tension drain from his shoulders. He glanced at Valkyrie, back to this Hawkeye. What an odd taken name.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Valkyrie licked her lower lip. “I could probably knock her off her feet if you distract her. But then we’d have whatever she said—the Revengers or whatever—after us. And we don’t even know what street we’re on. And I don’t want to get shot by an arrow.”

Skulduggery nodded, amused. “Getting shot by an arrow could be considered a learning experience.” He looked back to Hawkeye, raised his voice. “Very well.” He held his hands up. “If you could take us to whoever’s in charge…”

Hawkeye considered calling herself the leader, but dismissed the idea. Whatever bone they had with the Young Avengers, she didn't want to be the sole recipient of. She nearly asked if they wished to speak with the leader of the Avengers, but dismissed that too. If the Avengers got a hold of this case, she'd never see it again. "We don't have a leader," she explained. "Action is faster when it's not trickling through a bureaucracy."

Skulduggery laughed, and Valkyrie felt herself grinning along with him. She liked Hawkeye, she decided. She tilted her head and looked at the woman. She was strong, and though the outfit was flashy, Valkyrie liked it.

She wore tight pants, after all.

Valkyrie hooked her thumbs through the belt loops of her pants. “Yeah, trust me, we don’t like it any more than you.” She tried to control her smile.

“Well, would you mind taking us to whatever assembly you convene at?” Skulduggery asked. “As Valkyrie said, we’re far from home and although I’m never lost, she’s a little confused.”

Valkyrie scowled.

Hawkeye lowered her bow. She pursed her lips, thinking. Gradually, she said, "If you don't mind a roommate. I only have a couple personal quarters completely furbished, so you two can reside in my teammates' rooms. Only one member is there tonight, so you have a selection." She paused, observing Valkyrie and Skulduggery. "All rooms are fair game, and I don't care a hoot what you guys choose. But if it's of interest to you, we do have one room with a queen bed. The rest are twins."

Before Valkyrie could even speak, Skulduggery was already there, voice smooth and ready.

“I don’t sleep. It’s more of a hobby than anything conductive to my thinking capabilities.” Skulduggery looked at Valkyrie. “Unless you want to share a room with me?” He hadn’t lowered his voice.

Valkyrie sucked in a breath through her teeth. “We don’t know if she’s going to chop my head off,” she whispered. “If she was, it’d be when I was sleeping.”

“Then we’d like the queen bed,” Skulduggery said confidently. “Excuses,” he said lowly to her.

“I hate you.” Valkyrie smiled at Hawkeye. “He’s very rude. Thank you. It’s not very often someone’s nice to him, and he gets scared at hospitality.”

Hawkeye smiled. "Sounds like the teammate back at base. Sleeps on the couch because actually using the bedroom I gave him would imply he's cared about." Hawkeye looked upward at the moon. "We're just lucky I'm on patrol tonight, and not our darling super-soldier. You'd probably give him a hemorrhage before a bullet." Hawkeye motioned them to follow her. "This way. Don't worry, we're driving. My car's parked nearby."

Skulduggery slumped at the mention of cars. The poor Bentley, wherever she was. Valkyrie wondered if she had made it through whatever strange shunt they had gone through. She didn’t think so. At least his gun had made it through.

Valkyrie looked around as Hawkeye led them to the car. She had only been to New York a couple of times, hated it. But it looked the same. No evil, all-powerful sorcerer lords ruling over the mortals.

“Super-soldier? Like a Cleaver?” Valkyrie asked.

"Ordinarily, I know _exactly_ what a cleaver is," answered Hawkeye. "But I think I need to ask now. What is a Cleaver to you?"

“Oh, they’re like our military. I don’t know much about them. They’re brilliant, though. You should see them fight, it’s like they can read each other’s minds.” Valkyrie paused. “They’re a little creepy, though.”

“The perfect soldier,” Skulduggery chimed in. “Loyal, diligent, strong, capable.”

Neither mentioned Cleavers were put through extensive personality-reprogramming.

Hawkeye led them out of the alley where there was a stream of cars parked along the sidewalk. "Then yes, you could say he's a Cleaver. Though the only thing creepy about him is his uncanny skill at buzzkilling."

Shortly, they reached a small purple punchbuggy. Hawkeye dug out a pair of keys from her utility belt, pressing the unlock button. She went around to the driver's seat. As she opened her door, a man across the street called out a "thank you." Hawkeye turned and waved amicably before getting inside.

Valkyrie had stopped, staring at the car in horror. Yeah, she liked the costume, but… She wanted the Bentley, not this purple mockery of a car. She wanted power. She wanted the Bentley.

_No, be polite._

Valkyrie got into the backseat — the very tiny backseat — and Skulduggery joined her. His long legs pressed into the seat in front of him, but he was too busy sending her looks.

“I love the car,” Valkyrie forced, shooting him a glare as she buckled in. “I had an orange one before I switched to my motorcycle.”

"Thanks," Hawkeye said, twisting hey keys into the ignition. They clanged, heavy with keychains. "Patriot hates it, refuses to be seen it." She removed her sunglasses, locking them in the dashboard. She rolled her eyes. "Men are so high-maintenance."

Valkyrie laughed, and Skulduggery sat straighter, his head hitting the roof of the car. Valkyrie looked out the windows as they pulled out, at the vaguely-empty street. A lot of construction, potholes.

“I don’t eat,” Skulduggery countered. “Nor do I sleep. I’m clever. I help people. I daresay I’m what some women would call the perfect man. Suave, sophisticated, charming. I’m low-maintenance. The only reason I have a bathroom is so that Valkyrie can use it.”

“He’s also humble.”

Skulduggery dipped his head. “Too kind, Valkyrie.”

Valkyrie grunted. “We don’t ever get thanked.”

“Our service is a quiet one.”

“I think it’s because we hit people.” Valkyrie looked at Hawkeye. “Patriot… That’s an interesting name. So is Hawkeye, actually.”

"Thanks, I stole it," Kate quipped. She pressed down on the clutch and nearly hit the car in front of her. "Oops," she chirped, backing up and jerkily navigating onto the road.

Valkyrie frowned. Could they steal names? She didn’t think so. She was sure people _had_ stolen their names before, but… maybe it was different here.

Skulduggery stilled next to her. “How involved are regular people in this place? You seem recognized, well-known.”

"Do I?" Hawkeye grinned. "Awesome. I'm not really a high-profile super hero - yet. Mostly it's the locals who know about me. I'll admit, taking up the alias of my predecessor earned me a bit more publicity than my teammates, though."

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. Superheroes. Magic. She guessed it could be considered the same thing, if another world had… It was like a comic book. Fletcher would be pleased, if he knew.

“Superheroes are known all over, then?” Skulduggery drummed a beat on the seat next to him. “Interesting.”

“What powers do you guys have?” Valkyrie asked, eager despite herself.

"The Young Avengers? Oh, this and that. I don't have any powers, personally. Patriot has super strength, enhanced speed, enhanced sensory - you know the drill. Miss America has super strength and flying. A couple other things too, but I won't bury you in details. It can get abstract with her. Billy," Hawkeye faltered, "er, Wiccan can get abstract too. Mostly we depend on him for lightning bolts and GPS. Everything else he does is a hail Mary.

"Marvel Boy is a jack-of-all-trades, Prodigy is a know-it-all, and Hulkling has super strength, shape-shifting, and flight. Then there's Speed, who you're going to meet at the base, and you can gather what he does. Oh! Also Loki, depending on the day. He likes to tag along," she finished.

“Loki? As in, the Norse God of Mischief?” Skulduggery fingers tapped faster.

Marvel. Why did that name sound familiar? Valkyrie frowned. She had heard someone mention the name, but she couldn’t remember who or what they had said about it. It might have been Gracious, but she never much listened to what he said.

“Wow, Skulduggery, everyone here and their mother can fly.” Valkyrie nudged him. “Where we come from, only a few people can fly. Skulduggery was one of the first, but he’s taught a few people.”

“Someone can also play with electricity,” Skulduggery muttered.

"You can teach people to fly?" Hawkeye asked, impressed.

Skulduggery hesitated. “I can teach certain people to fly. It depends. I control the elements as an Elemental. Valkyrie…”

“I’m an Adept, of some sort,” Valkyrie filled in. “I won’t go into it, but I can shoot electricity. It’s all pretty cool.”

“Sounds it,” Hawkeye agreed. “Kind of wildcards, like Wiccan and the Scarlet Witch.”

“Who are they?”

"Wiccan is my teammate. You'll be in his bedroom. The Scarlet Witch is his mother." Hawkeye see-sawed her hand. "More or less."

Valkyrie slumped. “Oh, man, I forgot I promised to watch Alice for the weekend. Mum’s going to be mental.” She pulled out her phone, tried to text, but she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Signal, no contacts.

“Alice is sixteen,” Skulduggery said.

“Yeah, well, Mum’s mental. And Alice is… You know how she is.” Valkyrie looked at Hawkeye, asked the next question very slowly. “Do your parents know about this? About you?”

Hawkeye drummed her fingers on the wheel. "If they do, I haven't received a thank you card."

They pulled into a parking lot. There was a large, rectangular building with uniform windows lining each floor. Carved into the front of the building were the words BISHOP PUBLISHING - ESTABLISHED 1924. The only car in the entire lot was the purple punchbuggy.

Hawkeye took her keys out. "Here's the Clubhouse!" she announced, twisting in her seat to smile at Valkyrie and Skulduggery.

“Oh my God,” Valkyrie breathed. It was an office building.

Skulduggery shook his head sadly. “She’s not very articulate, sometimes. She meant to thank you for answering our questions and giving us a place to stay. Hopefully, in the morning, we can sort all of this business out and return home.”

“An office building, not a cave!” Valkyrie grinned.

Another sad shake of the head from Skulduggery, and he opened his door and slid out.

Hawkeye grabbed her bow from the passenger seat, slid her sunglasses onto her face, and hopped out. She jabbed the lock button and the car beeped. Standing, she said, "Yes, well, it's no Avengers’ Mansion, but it was either this or getting personally arrested by Captain America for trespassing."

Valkyrie’s head snapped towards Hawkeye. Captain America? A suspicion had planted itself in her mind, but she pushed it away because it was silly. It was really silly. Skulduggery would laugh at her when she told him. But she was going to tell him, anyways.

Not now. Now, she got to see a cool, above-ground control center.

Valkyrie looked around, but the smile fell from her face. It… was just an office building. No Cleavers — guards, whatever — no defenses. Just… It might be cooler on the inside.

“I’ve been arrested,” Valkyrie finally said. “I don’t recommend it.”

"Is that so?" Hawkeye said politely, leading the way toward the entrance. "Maybe you can exchange prison tales with Speed."

Skulduggery nodded. “She was arrested and then beaten up.”

“I wasn’t _beaten up_ .”

They stood outside the building’s entrance. Fastened beside the main door was a pad. Hawkeye’s purple, manicured nail pressed down on a button. "Hawkeye," she enunciated clearly.

An electronic voice spoke, _"Identity recognized. Entrance cleared."_ The door swung open of its own accord and Hawkeye walked through. "Cool, right?" she bragged.

Valkyrie glowered at Skulduggery. “Stop telling people I was arrested,” she whispered to him as he trailed after Hawkeye. “That literally happened once. It gives the wrong impression.”

Skulduggery’s head swiveled around to take in the surroundings. Valkyrie followed inside.

It… It was an office building. A deserted office building, but one nonetheless. It was neat, clean, the lobby nice but missing a reception lady. There was even a potted plant. It reminded her of the lobby of the Sanctuary, and she had seen that enough times.

She trudged after Skulduggery.

Office buildings were stupid.

“We rely on different methods to protect our buildings,” Skulduggery said absently. “Sigils, guards. Technology, while appreciated, doesn’t venture — ”

“They don’t even use computers,” Valkyrie said. “Skulduggery only uses his phone for calls and playing Scrabble with me.”      

"We don't have a lot of," Hawkeye began, stopping when a flash darted in front of her. She stumbled backward, clutching her heart.

"'Sup," a boy greeted. He had on a rumpled wife beater and a pair of plaid pajama pants that pooled around his ankles. He was the shortest of the four, and lean, with pale hair, green eyes, and an angular face. "Who's the freak and the chick?" he asked.

Skulduggery tilted his head. “I’m Skulduggery Pleasant, and this is my partner, Valkyrie Cain.”

Valkyrie forced a smile on her face. They were guests. Guests had to be nice. Then again, this little twerp seemed annoying. Valkyrie could take him out in one punch. Look at those arms. Weak.

“We’re not from around here,” Skulduggery continued. “Hawkeye was kind enough to offer us a place to stay, as well as access to resources for a return trip. I assume you’re Speed.”

"When did I offer resources?" Hawkeye piped up.

"You didn't," Speed told her.

“I figured the resources-bit would come later,” Skulduggery said. “You wouldn’t want us hanging around long. We’re not bad guys, but we have the remarkable talent of making enemies wherever we go. We’re simply too noble, for some.”

Tommy nodded at Valkyrie and Skulduggery. "You mutants?"

“We’re not mutants.” Valkyrie frowned. “But we’re not really sure what that means. Not from here. We’re sorcerers.”

Speed narrowed his eyes. "No such thing as human sorcerers. Magic is a mutation."

Hawkeye shrugged. "Maybe not. It's not like we're experts."

"Whatever. _That,_ right there," Speed pointed a thumb at Skulduggery, "is not human. But if they're lost, there's tons of closets they can hide in."

"Speed, quit it," Hawkeye reprimanded. A smile was tugging at her lips.

“I was human, once. I died, I came back through convoluted means, but I am still fundamentally human. As are you. As are most people with… powers.”

Valkyrie sighed. She hated talking about this, the logistics. Magic was interesting, there’s no need to find out every last minutia about it. People who did tended to crack. Whatever they find out, Valkyrie was not interested. She liked sanity.

“Insults aside,” Skulduggery said, looking down at Speed, “this has all been very thrilling. I’m truly giddy at the prospect of another universe, one where magic is known, but my partner and I need to confer in private. And you don’t seem to know anything.”

Speed snorted. "Sounds like Mother," he sniped.

Hawkeye snickered. "Shut up, Tommy, you weren't even there."

“Oh, how I love banter,” Skulduggery muttered.

Valkyrie stepped forward. “Look,” she said to Hawkeye, “while I’m sure you’re having fun, we need to talk about this, figure out how we got here and how to get home. Your friend,” she glanced at Speed, “just wants to poke fun at Skulduggery, and I do that enough.”

“The room,” Skulduggery suggested. “Or someone who knows something about something. Dimension travel, perhaps.”

Hawkeye and Speed both sobered, body language tensing.

Speed laughed dryly. "Oh, hell no." He shook his head. "I'm out, Bishop."

"Where are you going?" Hawkeye asked.

"Hopefully, a friend who doesn't mind being woken up at one in the morning. And, you know, doesn't take in interdimensional strays. Guess that rules out Team Kaplan," muttered Tommy, padding over to a desk in the corner of the room. He swiped a pair of orange goggles from a drawer, wrestling it over his head. "Nope, definitely no interdimensional strays where I am headed. Domestic Earth-616 strays only," he prattled. As he passed Skulduggery and Valkyrie, he said, "Nice legs, the both of you." He ran through the door, not bothering to open it, and was gone with a whip of the air.

Hawkeye exhaled, chewing her lip. "Personal quarters are upstairs, level 7. I'll show you to the elevator."

Skulduggery didn’t move. “You know about dimension travel. Who is this Kaplan team?”

“Skulduggery,” Valkyrie said softly, “tomorrow. I’m tired, and jet-lagged, and no one will miss us for a night. Mum can deal — she knows I run off. Let’s just wait. Let’s try not to piss people off for once, yeah? Especially given the warm welcome Speed gave us.”

Skulduggery glanced at her, then waved a hand. “Lead the way to the elevator,” warm lilt back to his tone.

Hawkeye stared at them for a moment, before shaking her head and smiling unnaturally. She walked on through the halls silently, not saying a word until after they reached the elevator and had hit the button for the desired level.

"Team Kaplan," she informed, a humorous ring to her tone, "will be contacted tomorrow. For now, Skulduggery, you'll have to settle for just their bedroom."

The elevator doors opened to the seventh floor.

Oh, right, the queen bed. Valkyrie was aching to just fall into something warm and soft. She was tired, unnaturally so. Her joints hurt; wherever they were, it wasn’t right. She didn’t think she could miss a dimension, but she did.

The seventh floor wasn’t an office building. It had been converted into something warm and homey, somewhere Valkyrie wouldn’t mind reading a nice book at.

Skulduggery was silent, but she knew he would be all words as soon as they reached the room. She wanted to talk, too, but she wanted to do it curled up in sheets.

“Thank you,” Valkyrie said again. “For taking us at our word, especially.”

Hawkeye stopped in front of a door, looking at Valkyrie sharply. "Thank you, in advance, for not giving me a reason to otherwise. We may not seem like much, but we've got allies in high places." Then she pushed her sunglasses to her head and winked.

Hawkeye turned the knob and gestured them inside. The room was moderately sized, but the bed filled most of it. There was dark blue comforter neatly made and the air around them was neutral, as if it hadn't been lived in frequently enough to mold to the occupants' scents. However, there was a pair of Superman boxers wrinkled on the carpet and a winged circlet atop the wardrobe. The circlet semi-enveloped a framed newspaper article.

"I'll be in my own quarters tonight, since you two are staying over. Scream in panic if you need me, I respond by instinct." With that, Hawkeye exited the room.

Valkyrie called a goodnight after her.

She shut the door, then immediately began to strip. She kicked off her boots, shrugged out of her jackets, tugged her pants off, then crawled onto the bed and collapsed face-first onto it. She was wearing a shirt Alice had given her, and it smelled like home.

Skulduggery sat on the edge of the bed. “What do we know?”

Valkyrie turned her head so she could speak. “In a different dimension. They have some magic, but they don’t equate their powers to it. Mortals call them mutants. Mortals know about them.”

Skulduggery nodded. “What do you think about that?”

“What do you mean? Like, obviously there’s some tension. That Speed kid seemed pretty adamant that mutants aren’t human or whatever.”

“Could be interesting.”

Valkyrie scoffed. “Are you suggesting we _stick around_ ?”

Skulduggery gave her a little shrug. “Names aren’t the same here, have you noticed?”

Valkyrie let out a moan. “Yeah. That’s why they’re all silly. What about that Loki business?”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate your name. I’m not sure what to make of that. It might be an alias but…” He leaned over and shut off the light. “What is it?”

“What? Oh, I think… Captain America is a comic book character.”

“What do you mean?”

Valkyrie groaned. “Wake me up early, we’ll talk about it then. I need sleep.” She squirmed under the covers. She sat in silence for a second. “I think we’re in a comic, or something. Superheroes? It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Skulduggery digested this. “Fletcher could find us.”

“He doesn’t know we’re gone.” Valkyrie felt her eyes closing against her will. “Tell me a story — this bed is lumpy.”

He did so.

**Author's Note:**

> Skulduggery Necessities: Valkyrie Cain and Skulduggery Pleasant are Irish detectives who work to solve magical crimes under the noses of mortals. As sorcerers, they can manipulate a wide range of things: the elements, locked doors, bones, the dead, electricity; you name it, they have it. On the more dangerous coin are _shunters_ , a subclass of adept sorcerers (the wild card guys who can rupture your bones or throw energy). Shunters can bend reality. 
> 
> In this world, you have three names: your given name, your taken name, and your true name. Your given name was bestowed upon you by your parents; if you don't have a taken name, your given name can be used by other sorcerers to control you to a degree. Your taken name is a shield, in that way, and you choose it for yourself. Your true name is something basically assigned to you in the cosmos, and if a sorcerer learns it, they can control you completely. (Which would be especially bad for a shunter, whose ability to control multiple realities could be compromised by the wrong kind of dude.)
> 
> Valkyrie is an adept sorcerer with an affinity for electricity. Skulduggery is an elemental, cursed to be an immortal skeleton, who controls fire, water, air, and earth.
> 
> Young Avengers Necessities: The Young Avengers are a team of teen superheroes in the Marvel universe (shared with big names like Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, Loki, Black Widow, Spider-Man, etc.). They fight crime pretty publicly, some with secret identities and others without. 
> 
> There are badass normals, like Kate Bishop a.k.a. Hawkeye, who rely on their physical ability and combat skill. There are also those more meta, like Billy Kaplan a.k.a. Wiccan, who rely on the sheer ability to alter reality itself. (For the good of all, naturally.) Those with powers may be aliens (like Teddy Altman a.k.a. Hulkling), or super-soliders who were enhanced by a super-serum (like Eli Bradley a.k.a. Patriot), genetic experiments, or the more controversial mutants, who were born with the powers (like Tommy Shepherd a.k.a. Speed). The possibilities are endless, and not at all underground. 
> 
> With great power, however, come time-travelling gods of mischief, the multiverse, and super-powered fanboys.


End file.
